When you write a blog post with a lot of personal revelation, several things happen.
First, you get flooded with incredible feedback. Texts, emails, Facebook messages, WhatsApps, even – wait for it – phone calls.
Second, you walk around wondering Who Read It and Who Didn’t. It’s a little weird. And wondering if people feel weird about how to act toward you or mention it to family members or what. A blog post, once released, becomes an organic entity all its own.
So then you have doubts. Should I have written all that? Was it TMI? Am I compromising my family’s privacy (I consulted with my husband before posting, of course). Will someone say something weird to them?
But back to feedback. The feedback itself came in a variety of forms. Mostly, overwhelmingly, kind. Messages of love, solidarity, and warmth. Messages promising to keep us in people’s prayers and hearts. Messages that reminded me of my core belief in the inherent goodness of mankind.
Also, hope. Messages from people who have been there, and prevailed. Despaired, then succeeded. Fell into the dark pit and emerged. These messages uplifted me. Especially stories of successful adults with Aspergers (bring ’em on!).
Concern. Was I OK? (Yes, thank G-d, I really am – with a lot of help.)
There was also gratitude – from fellow sufferers in this journey called life. Gratitude for making others feel normal. For reminding them that no one’s life is all put together. For making it OK to be real.
And while I really wrote the post for myself – to process, as catharsis, and as part of my healing – it is the last reason that makes me feel vindicated.